To Be Loved The Way You Love Me (Editing)
by muggleborn.dragon.ryder
Summary: Life on Berk turns upside down when a sixteen year old boy traveling with a dark past, a world of hurt, and a Night Fury washes up on its shores. The love-starved boy will only tell people one thing about his past: His name is Hiccup. But where did he live before? And why doesn't he trust anyone? Currently being edited!
1. Escape Plan

**Chapter 1: Escape Plan**

**This is my rewritten version of 'To Be Loved the Way You Love Me'. I noticed I made everybody out-of-character and that the scenes between Astrid and Hiccup weren't even worthy to be used as tissue paper. I also noticed several other flaws - plot-wise and character-wise - that needed to be corrected so desperately that I decided to redo the whole idea.**

**With this new rewritten version, you shall find torture, romance, angst so thick you can barely breathe, Stoick/Hiccup father/son feels, defensive!Hiccup, hurt/comfort, Snotlout/Hiccup angst, lots of dragon training, surprises, romantic flights, half-insane blacksmiths, Mildew being his douche-y self, Toothless/Hiccup closeness and friendship, a few dragon attacks, a bit of fluff to measure out the angst, maybe a snowball fight and, to top it off, an OC or two. **

* * *

_This is Outcast Island._

_It's twelve days north of hopeless and a few degrees south of freezing to death. _

_I've grown up on it. I've explored its forests and waded in its waters. I've done some pretty crazy things on this island, include attempt to teach myself archery and fishing. And let's not forget that charming time when I thought maybe I was a natural at the axe._

_Needless to say, I've lived to regret trying to do all of those things, but there was one thing I did that I can't bring myself to regret, no matter how terrible the consequences were, how terrible they always will be…because these consequences will follow us everywhere we go, because the cause of all the trouble is with me right now._

My heart beat fast with fear, but I had to try this – it was my only chance.

"Alright, bud," I whispered, measuring his tailfin. I knew it could take me all night. But I'd much rather fly away from here than swim.

I picked up the hammer, intensely grateful that once, I'd been the blacksmith's apprentice. It actually wasn't that great of a position.

The work was interesting, but the blacksmith was impatient and a terrible teacher. He wasn't really sure how to explain everything to me, so he'd often give me impossible jobs I had no idea how to complete.

Luckily, within the past few years, I've managed to figure out how to do most of the work, so I knew exactly what to do for Toothless' tail.

I just couldn't believe that tonight might be the night…after four long years of waiting, of searching and praying and hoping and just barely surviving, tonight just might be the night when I won back my freedom.

I worked as quickly as I could, feverishly, although I tried hard to make the prosthetic tail with the same care as I had the first one.

I heard the footsteps of a Viking walking past the forge, off night patrol, handing the lit torch to somebody else, who would wander at the edge of the island and examine noises.

This was the part I had to be quietest about.

The first night patroller was an overweight man whose hearing was failing. I could practically total the forge and this guy wouldn't hear it.

But the second night patroller…his name was Halfdan and he was young, new and completely devoted to his duty.

He was one of the younger soldiers on night patrol and he'd only just recently gotten into dragon training, if I understood those snippets of conversation I heard the guards exchange outside my door every morning.

Halfdan was kind of the talk of the town and it was really too bad he was such an ass.

He wasn't the kind of guy who put Red Hot Itchyworms down inside your shirt or beat you up.

No, he was the kind of guy to tell his lackeys to do it and snigger happily at the results.

I was so caught up in thinking of him that I dropped the connecting rod and it clanged loudly off the stone floor.

_So much for being quiet._

I heard the footsteps outside the forge echoing, nearly swallowed by the crashing of the waves and the hooting of owls.

"Who's that?" demanded Halfdan. "Who's there?"

I froze, one hand wrapped around the connecting rod, the other up in the air, ready to haul myself back up.

"You did hear that, didn't you?" Halfdan asked.

"It was probably nothing," Gust, the overweight one, replied. "You young people are always hearing things these days."

"I don't like it," muttered Halfdan. "Ketil never leaves the forge unlocked. It sounds like someone's creeping around inside there."

"There's no one there," Gust replied soothingly and even though I couldn't see them, only hear them, I could tell from his tone that Gust was doing his kind, grandfatherly pat-on-the-shoulder calm-down-it's-all-right thing. He'd done that to me a time or two, before he'd been forced to turn his back on me or be killed.

Anybody with half a brain cell would have done it, too, so I didn't blame him. It was turn away from me or be killed that day.

"Don't patronize me!" Halfdan snapped. "I know someone's there!" I heard his footsteps drawing closer.

Oh, gods…I was easy to hide, I was small and quiet and lithe and if I had to, I could squish myself beneath the work table I was using and go unnoticed, provided Halfdan was stupid enough to neglect checking under every table and knowing him, he probably was.

But Toothless…Toothless was stealthy and silent, yes, but he was huge and bulky and he breathed fire. Oh, yeah, and add that to the fact that he hated Halfdan so much I had to hold Toothless back every time he saw him, and you could tell stealth wasn't going to fly.

If only it was Halfdan who was hard of hearing and Gust who wasn't…Gust wouldn't think to check under the tables, either, and Toothless had heard me talk about him before. He knew how kind and gentle the older Viking could be and so he wouldn't attack him.

I knew what I had to do. I took a deep breath and prayed to every deity I knew, hoping one of them was listening…please let someone be listening…I really need help right now, Thor…I never asked you for much…please…

I reached over and blew out the candle, plunging us into darkness. My heart beat fast with fear as I crawled over to Toothless, taking comfort from his scaly nose against my neck, nuzzling my hair, letting me know he was there for me if I needed him to be.

And oh, did I need him to be.

I scratched him under the chin, carefully enough to avoid his pressure point, and I talked as quickly as I could. "Listen, Toothless. Th-there's a back door just off to the side. I'm going to go push it open for you, okay? And you have to _run._ You have to get out of the forge and _hide as well as you can._ There's a big cluster of trees just outside the forge…you know, that big cluster of Loki trees? I'll come for you, I promise. You just focus on getting to the trees, okay?"

Toothless nodded and licked my dirty cheek, looking sad, as though he knew this might end badly.

And yet, I couldn't help it. He had a better chance outside and I knew we both wouldn't have time to blend seamlessly into the background. So I did what I could. I waited until I heard Toothless curling up in the cluster of the trees, hidden perfectly in the shrubbery and then I heard loud footsteps.

"Gust, can I borrow your key?" asked Halfdan, sounding annoyed. "I lost mine the other day."

I smiled to myself.

_More like that little fishbone you thought was a weakling pilfered it off you._

I rolled underneath the worktable as I heard Gust's weary voice. "Must we go through this every night, Halfdan? Every time you hear so much as a breeze swinging branches back and forth, you feel the need to investigate. There's nobody there."

But I heard the clinking of keys and I knew he was handing over his.

I heard the lock click as Halfdan ripped up the metal barred door and slipped inside, boots pounding on the wooden floor. "Where are you?" he breathed. "I'll find you. I know I will…"

I heard him subside to mumbling to himself as he overturned weapons, broken and repaired, newly made and newly sharpened and checked as thoroughly as he could for any intruders.

I heard his footsteps coming closer, saw his boots walk by my table…and then, all at once, they stopped.

They stopped right in front of the table and I watched, gasping for breath but trying not to breathe too loudly, as he stopped. His knees began to bend.

My heart was about to pump out of my chest with how hard it was beating…I couldn't breathe, I couldn't move…I wished so badly I'd decided to wing it and try to sneak away with Toothless…but I was easier to spot in the darkness and he wasn't…

A large part of me didn't regret the decision.

_Toothless will be safe. That's all that matters._

"Halfdan!" Gust called. "There's nobody in there!"

His knees stopped bending. He slowly rose again, an annoyed mutter making its way up from the back of his throat. "Mmph," he muttered, irritated. "I know I heard something." I watched his boots stop near my table again, then walk away.

That…was close.

I let out a breath I'd been holding since he'd entered the forge and I waited for them to walk away, to lock the forge back and go and patrol.

When I heard the door being locked back, I crawled out from my hiding place and pushed open the back door and quietly called for my dragon.

Toothless crawled out of the cluster of Loki trees and back inside the forge, pinning me to the ground and licking me, overjoyed that I was okay.

_Well, that makes one person in the world._

I pushed those thoughts back. I couldn't afford to think like that right now. What mattered now was survival.

I had gotten good at thinking like a cornered and desperate animal these past few years and now it all came in handy. I listened closely and walked silently, I kept my tired eyes wide open, still searching the forge madly for any sign of movement. I didn't trust Halfdan to have left yet. He had a knack for appearing in places that I least wanted to see him in.

Then I began making the tail again, one thought resurfacing clearly above all the others: _we are getting off Outcast Island._


	2. Starting Over

**Chapter 2: Starting Over**

* * *

I climbed on Toothless' back.

The sky was still dark blue, but over in the southwest, the clouds had a distinctly purple tinge that let everyone know that morning wasn't far.

A cool, calming breeze blew off the ocean as I pressed down on the tailfin, as we rose up in the air and took off in the sky, away from that horrible, awful place, away from Halfdan, away from his lackeys, away from the guards, away from Savage, away from…

Away from everything.

I gently pushed my thoughts in another direction. I didn't want to think about how much I hated Outcast Island.

This was my chance to start a new life with Toothless. It was my chance to start over and I wasn't going to waste it.

I heard the night wolves falling silent, as they so often did when morning came. They were my company at night, mixing with the moon and the stars that gazed down on me from my little window at night. If I really struggled, I could feel a bit of ocean breeze on my face every night, if I could just find the right way to prop myself up on the sill for two seconds before I was dragged back down again, back down into cold, deep darkness…

_No._

I had to stop thinking like that. I was starting over.

* * *

Neither Toothless nor I had slept that night, but once the real danger was past and Outcast Island was far behind us, I sensed him feeling the effects of fatigue.

I lifted my foot off the pedal, letting the tail fin snap closed and we began freefalling towards the water.

On impulse, I did the trick I'd done one thousand times before, many years ago, in my old life. I undid my vest and jumped out of the saddle, freefalling.

I smelled salt and felt us getting nearer to the water, so I grabbed onto Toothless' saddle and buckled myself inside, but I still heard the splash as his belly skimmed the water.

A few seagulls cried out in alarm upon seeing a black-as-night dragon in the middle of the day, but I simply laughed, trying to keep the tiredness out of my mind.

We could sleep later, I reminded myself, before catching sight of an island on the horizon.

"Hey, Toothless," I mumbled, stroking his head in an attempt to calm him, "there's an island."

Toothless moaned in confirmation, letting me know I wasn't hallucinating.

I could've been doing anything these days.

I never thought I'd wind up on Outcast Island quite the way I had, I never thought I'd hear my dad tell me those terrible words, I never thought it was possible to hate somebody as much as he hated me, but…

_No._

I was starting over.

I was starting over and hopefully, this island could help me in that quest.

I knew it was most likely going to be inhabited. But I also knew Toothless and I were capable of sleeping outside and eating very little. I knew we were capable of being quiet.

And there was a forest perfect for hiding out in just off one of the main paths, I noted as we got closer.

But I didn't note any more than that, because suddenly, weapons were flying at us from the direction of the island.

An arrow pierced Toothless' tailfin and I felt us beginning to fall.

_Oh, perfect._

The arrow hadn't done more than pierce it and rip a bit of the top layer off, revealing its mechanics, but that was enough to seriously hamper our flight.

I saw us heading for the beach and closed my eyes, knowing I was about to become a stain on the sand. Toothless was already spreading his wings to hopefully slow his fall, and then he glanced over at me and grabbed me in his talons.

I felt his scaly front paws clutching at my arms, dragging me forward and then my boots were skimming the sand and he was letting me go…

I had a mouthful of sand and the cries of frightened Vikings ringing in my ears.

"Did you see that?"

"That dragon just grabbed that boy!"

"He might've saved the boy's life!"

"Restrain him!"

"Restrain the dragon!"

"Get the boy!"

"Who knows what that thing can do?!"

"Grab him!"

I lifted my head and gazed around me at the blurry shapes of overly muscled Vikings that I'd grown so used to on Outcast Island and just as I opened my mouth to tell them not to hurt Toothless, I realized my throat wouldn't let the words pass through.

My body wouldn't cooperate, wouldn't let me stand. So I lay there on the white sand and I made an odd noise before I let my head fall to the ground again, a headache threatening as I blacked out.


	3. Waking Up

**Chapter 3: Waking Up**

**Well, here's chapter 3! It's not as good as the others, but *sigh* I did what I could, okay? Too much happens in this one little chapter and I'm sorry but there's just not a good cutoff point to cut this in half! It's too long, but I don't... *sighs* **

**Well, I hope you enjoy. I'm putting off working on my Rise of the Guardians story for you guys, so I hope you appreciate it.**

* * *

When I awoke next, I was inside a warm house. I had a blanket on and dry clothes. I heard voices, one deep and male and the other the same, both with strong, Scottish accents.

I lifted my head to free my ears and listened as hard as I could, trying to focus.

"He needs somewhere to go. We can't turn him away."

"I know what this is about, Stoick. Really. I do."

"What are you sayin', Gobber?" the one called Stoick asked.

I felt my muscles tense up as I remembered my dad's words about Stoick and his tribe, his rough voice so clear in my head that I was almost fooled into thinking he was standing there beside me.

* * *

"_Why does everybody seem to hate the Hooligans so much, Father?" I'd called him Daddy not two weeks ago, but he'd told me I was too old to call him that, in more ways than one._

"_Chief Stoick," Dad told me, tilting his head up to face the sun, squinting his eyes against the bright light, "is a witless, cowardly chief who won his position by birth and his feared reputation by his violent temper. He's not terribly intelligent or cunning, both of which a Viking chief needs to be. Remember that, Hiccup. A Viking chief must be cunning. Intelligent."_

"_Why do I have to remember that?" I asked, surprised at those words. I hadn't yet been taught that staying silent and holding your tongue was the truest form of survival on Outcast Island._

"_Because you're going to be chief of this tribe one day, stupid boy," Dad snarled. "Odin help us when the day comes, but someday, you will take my place. And you will do it right."_

_I lowered my head. "Yes, Father."_

"_Good. Now come on, Hiccup. We've got a long walk home ahead of us if we want to make it there before nightfall."_

_And we carried on trekking through the forest I'd come to know by heart._

* * *

I was about five, maybe six in that memory and I still recalled that Dad let me wander anywhere and everywhere in those days. I was probably too young and stupid to be allowed out alone, but at least I wasn't like our village's personal pyromaniac, Bosi, who seemed to feel that anything could be bettered through a bit of fire and thus was often always caught with a magnifying glass in his hand, leaning over something in bright sunlight and trying to burn a hole in it, before he progressed to more dangerous ways of burning things.

I zoned back in to the conversation in time to hear the man named Gobber say in his heavy accent, "It's about Hakon, isn't it?"

"Of course not," Chief Stoick replied harshly. "This is about a Viking in need. I thought he was a little…well, okay, Mildew had me believing everything he was saying about how this was clearly a sign that he was evil, being rescued by the deadliest of dragons, but…I mean, look at him, Gobber. Really look at him. He's all bloodied up and he's so small he couldn't possibly have put up much of a fight against whoever did it. He's just a kid."

I heard one of them sigh. "If everything goes to hell," Gobber mumbled darkly, "just know I warned you, in any case."

I wondered briefly what they were talking about before the Vikings entered the room.

_Odin._

Chief Stoick was even bigger up close. I could feel the fear threatening to choke me and the panic beginning to overwhelm me as, for the first time, I realized Toothless wasn't here. Maybe I should've noticed it sooner, but I had been so caught up in thinking of the Hooligan tribe and everything Dad had ever told me about Stoick the Vast…

I swallowed and sat up quickly, throwing the blanket off. "I'm sorry. I'll just be going now. Thank you very much for your hospitality, Chief Stoick the Vast, but I will just be—

I started to get up, inching towards the door, but halfway there, my knees buckled, my side screamed out in agony and I hit the ground hard, my knees taking the full impact of the unforgiving wooden floor beneath me.

"Slow down," Chief Stoick said kindly, much kinder than he should have, anyway. Why wasn't he all…brutal and bloodthirsty? And shouldn't he be carrying a spear with a Gronckle head on it?

Well, it has been quite awhile since Alvin's seen him, in any case.

"You may have noticed this, as you addressed me as 'Chief Stoick the Vast'," he continued slowly, his eyes kind, "but you're on the Isle of Berk. We're not about to throw you out to sea or anything, alright?"

"Aye," Gobber interjected. "And we're not gonna yank out a whip, lad."

I flinched at the mention of a whip. I remembered those all too well. "Wh-where's Toothless?" I stuttered, heart beating so quickly, it was like tiny bird's wings fluttering feebly in my chest. "I'm sorry if he growled at any of you or tried to attack anybody in the village…Toothless is very protective of me, you see."

"Who's Toothless?" Stoick asked.

This part might not go over so well. I knew how strongly Stoick opposed the Outcasts. I'd have to be very careful not to let my origin slip and that was if they didn't start demanding answers the moment I explained about me and Toothless. "He's a dragon about so high…" I held my hand a few feet off the ground to indicate, sounding determinedly casual so they wouldn't panic…hopefully. "He's kind of dark blue-black and he's got a wingspan of about forty feet…er…" I struggled to remember other things about him to help jog their memory. "Oh, yeah, he has green eyes."

How could I forget the color of the eyes that once pierced my heart, no matter how many disguises or masks I wore?

None of them could fool Toothless' piercing green eyes.

I swallowed and let my hand drop, waiting for Chief Stoick and his blonde friend to speak.

Gobber was making a strangled noise in the back of his throat, playing with his hands in an 'I'm not sure we should tell him' sort of way, which only made me all the more anxious.

"What happened to him?" I demanded.

Stoick exchanged a look with Gobber, clasped his hands together, turned to me and at last, spoke. "You do know what Vikings and dragons do to each other, right?"

Panic clawed at me, threatening to overwhelm me.

_No. No. No. Toothless has to be okay…_

"You didn't kill him?" I whispered desperately, my heart breaking. I didn't know if I could bear to hear the answer. If Toothless goes, I go. It's the way it is. He's the only thing still tying me to this earth, the only reason I didn't give up back on Outcast Island. He's the only thing that kept me from surrendering, because resisting meant staying strong for him. I couldn't lose my dragon. It was like asking me to leave behind my whole world.

Stoick took a breath. "No." I relaxed, but he kept speaking. "But only because we couldn't get close enough. We managed to subdue him for now, but I can't allow him to roam free with you, alright? We're killing him as soon as we can."

"No!" I stood up again, off my knees, frantically pacing the room. "No, no, no, you_ can't_, you can't kill him, Chief. I'm leaving soon. Very soon. I'll be out of your hair, just let him go."

"Boy— Stoick began, but I interrupted.

"Name's Hiccup. Not that that matters. Yeah, actually, if we're going to keep things real, don't bother. Just call me 'useless'. Or 'accident'. Whichever one works for you. Just don't kill him."

"Shh," Gobber said soothingly, standing up and putting calming hands on my shoulders. I winced, his fingers finding the welts left over from my last whipping.

"Please stop," I whispered, sliding out from beneath his touch that was fast inflaming the tender, healing wounds. "Just don't kill him. We'll leave. Right now. You'll never have to see him again, either of us again, I'll leave, just tell me where he is, I'll get him myself—

"Slow down," Stoick repeated gently. "Son—

"Don't call me that," I interrupted. "I told you, 'useless' 'mistake' 'accident' 'screw-up' – those are fine, ok? Just don't call me that."

He sighed, rubbing at his forehead. "Hiccup…" my name sounded both foreign and familiar on his tongue, like he was somebody I'd known a long time ago. "Calm down."

_You're taking my whole WORLD away from me and you want me to calm down?_

"Just let me leave," I tried desperately.

I saw him exchange a silent glance with Gobber, as if trying to decide how crazy I was.

I wasn't crazy. I was just trying to survive.

There was a silence as I waited for their decision. I had a brief, scary thought and it so nearly slipped out: what if I could _show_ them Toothless wouldn't hurt them?

I banished the thought immediately, knowing I could never do that if I hoped to get off here alive and unscathed.

_But what about Toothless?_

No matter what, everything I did had to be okay with Toothless, too and leaving him behind on a hostile island definitely wouldn't be okay with him or me.

Even if I didn't care about him – an unimaginable thought – what he did for me back there on Outcast Island was just unforgettable. I couldn't leave him behind after he showed that kind of loyalty to me, anyway.

"It's his funeral," Gobber broke the silence.

"That dragon will kill us the second he's free," Stoick retorted furiously.

I found it hard to breathe when I realized they were so calmly discussing the fate of my dragon. "I— I began, but Gobber interrupted.

"The way he's making it sound—

"Gobber." Stoick grabbed at the other man's beefy arm and physically dragged him into the next room, but by the sound of it, they weren't struggling to keep their voices down. "This boy comes from an unknown island," Stoick started and I could tell he was getting ready to make a speech that was simply unanswerable. "He's got nothing with him except a dragon. He's got no food, no supplies – chances are he's a little crazy, even without the dragon. Leaving his tribe isn't uncommon among the younger generation these days, but surely his family would give him food and clothing and he wouldn't be so badly injured?"

"Exactly," Gobber countered and I smiled at his argumentative talent. "He's badly injured, Stoick. He may need our help."

Silence.

Gobber exited the room and came into the next one, the one I sat in so impatiently. I jumped up. "What's going on?"

"With the dragon?" Gobber asked, turning to me. "Your guess is as good as mine."

"Chief— I began as Stoick walked into the room.

"How old are you?" Stoick asked, expertly cutting me off. I heard Gobber draw a sharp breath and glanced up to see him glaring at Stoick.

"S-sixteen." I replied, surprised. I knew it was risky to tell the truth about anything, especially my name and age, but it was likely they'd never heard of me before. It wasn't like I was some well-known Viking. In fact, my dad tried to hush everything up and confine it to Outcast Island.

Of course, the Murderous and the Uglithugs heard of it and came to get a closer look and see if everything was true, but Dad lied his way out of it, the way he always does.

Stoick shot Gobber a meaningful glance, then turned back to me and nodded.

What more could I do? I had to do this.

I pushed my curiosity about their conversation down and prayed that luck would be with me. "If you don't trust my dragon, then let me show you."


	4. Taking Chances

**Chapter 4: Taking Chances**

**Um. So. Yeah. I finished this chapter two days ago, along with the third, but I was too lazy to go back and reread it yesterday, so I let it sit in Microsoft Word because I didn't want to edit xP because I thought this chapter was terrible and then I reread it and was like, 'well, it's not SO bad'. **

**And seriously, guys, I'm not being hard on myself. You did READ the first version, didn't you? xD dang, that version was awful xD **

**Oh, yeah, that reminds me! It's not completely set up yet (I'll tell you guys when it is, but that could take a few weeks) but I'm setting up an ask blog on tumbler for Hiccup! And yes, I did misspell it, but I meant to, so it'll show up in the AN. Anyway, it's an ask blog for Hiccup from *this* AU xD what do you think? I'll give you guys the link (as best as I can with FF breathing down my neck about links xD) when it's ready and up :) **

**So even when the story ends, there will still be a small part of it that keeps going :) *whispers* also just because role-playing Hiccup and answering like him is too awesome**

* * *

"Show me what?" Stoick barked, after a long period of silence. He looked much angrier than when I'd first seen him and he was glaring down at me so harshly I almost lost my nerve.

_Focus, Hiccup. Toothless. Do it for Toothless._

I forced myself to stare directly back at him, trying to keep the fear out of my voice, off my face. "Let me show you th-the reason why you should let him go."

There was another silence, one I knew not to break.

"What will you do?"

"I'm going to show you why you shouldn't kill him." I replied slowly, looking into his eyes, never breaking my gaze. I learned that eye contact lets people know you're being honest and that they can trust you. He couldn't trust me and Toothless was likely to attack everybody in this village depending on how they "subdued" him, but he wasn't ever gonna know that.

Gobber looked pointedly at Stoick, who demanded aggressively, "What would you do?"

"I…" I knew what I would do, but he'd never believe me. "I told you, I'd show you how to subdue a dragon. And you could use them on the dragons here."

I saw Stoick's eyebrows fly up and didn't try to press my luck.

"You could help us?" he asked, surprised.

"Yeah," I responded. "I could."

"Alright," Stoick nodded. "What's your price?"

Vikings didn't owe debts.

"Your silence," I replied. He looked surprised again, but I continued without thinking about it. "I want you to promise me if I help you that you won't spread it around to the other tribes and that you'll let me leave immediately after, with Toothless by my side."

"That's not too hard of a bargain," Gobber objected. "It makes it sound as if we're getting the better end of the deal."

I shrugged. "I promise you, Chief Stoick, your tribe's silence would mean the world to me."

Chief Stoick nodded, but then he looked bewildered. "Why do you ask me for something so simple? You could've asked for that and help with your injuries or something, too. You could've asked for help with something else. Food, clothing, medical treatment – you came here with no supplies, after all."

I shook my head. "I don't need your help. I'll find a way to get that stuff." I knew I'd said the wrong thing at Stoick's skeptical look. He didn't believe I could take care of myself.

Well, he didn't know I'd been doing it for the past sixteen years. Caring for myself and Toothless was second nature to me, now.

"I just need Toothless back and for you to stay quiet about this," I repeated, eager to make it clear I was okay. "That's all I ask."

"Alright," Stoick replied uncertainly. "Let's go."

"Go where?" I asked.

"To your…dragon," it sounded as if the words were physically painful for him to force out and I realized, despite his size and general air of confidence, he was probably very scared. "I won't pretend your help will go unappreciated or unused, but if this is a trick…"

"No," I responded. "I promise it's not."

_And what do you think, you're going to be Hiccup the Hero? Yeah, right. Get over yourself. You tried this once before, remember?_

SHUT UP! This isn't me trying to be a hero, I thought to myself. Or somehow make up for what happened last time. I'm trying to get off this damned island!

And helping Berk seemed to be the only way away from it, so I would do that. Once they had proof, I would tell them then.

And they would believe me this time.

The thing that happened last time wouldn't happen this time. I simply wouldn't let it. I'd play my cards right this time.

Here was my second chance to give someone help, to prove to somebody that dragons were really good, just scary-looking and horribly misunderstood creatures.

_Oh, like yourself?_

Shut it, I thought to that snide little voice in my head. Then I said, "Alright. We can do it now."

* * *

Gobber and Stoick both carried weapons as they led the way to Toothless' prison room, Gobber behind me, Stoick leading the way.

I knew they didn't trust me. I knew they thought I was going to let Toothless kill them all.

But I knew he wouldn't kill them if I was there to tell him no. He'd listen to me, I was sure of it.

The cell door opened as my heart clenched. He was in a cell. If they lost what little trust I'd gotten from them, I'd be in a cell, too.

They stood at the back of the room and I slowly walked forward, approaching Toothless, taking off his muzzle. He opened his eyes and hissed loudly at me, before realizing who it was. He licked my cheek and I smiled brightly, for once forgetting I had two burly Vikings who could more likely than not knock me over with their breath if I did something they didn't like.

I swallowed and said, "What I'm about to show you doesn't leave Berk, okay?"

"I know that, now would you get on with it?" Stoick snapped.

I nodded quickly, making note of his short temper. It seemed that I'd be spending an hour or so in his company, so I'd better know all I could about him. "Sorry. Uh, Toothless, bud, we're gonna show 'em some stuff—

Toothless roared loudly at me.

"Oh, gods," I mumbled. "No, Toothless, not like that. We're helping them, but—

Toothless' eyes spoke nothing but the pain of betrayal.

"WOULD YOU LISTEN?" I bellowed, sensing danger as he began building up a fireball in his throat to hurl anywhere.

He looked surprised and he swallowed it. He'd never heard me raise my voice before when it wasn't a matter of life or death and my yell surprised me.

He lowered his head in a sign of obedience and I sighed, stroking his head. "It's alright, bud, they're…" I cut them a look. "Friends. Sort of. It's not like last time. I promise you."

I could almost feel Stoick and Gobber staring at us as I continued, "So, just, you know, show 'em…"

He pressed his nose into my palm and leaned over Gobber, who looked paralyzed with fear as Toothless took a delicate sniff.

He obviously deemed Gobber trustworthy, because he licked him lightly, but seconds after that, he circled me protectively, as if telling Gobber a lick on the hand meant nothing in terms of trust.

He leaned over Stoick and sniffed him, too, but he backed away a few feet. He wasn't growling, which was a good sign, but he was still backing away, meaning he had…reservations.

I nodded. I understood that. I didn't even need to sniff them with a dragon's sensory skills to know I couldn't trust Stoick completely. Gobber seemed a little more focused on getting the whole darn thing over with, but Stoick seemed…off.

Toothless went up to Gobber again, obviously liking him better and privately, I did, too.

"Um, well…" I began awkwardly as Gobber leaned away from him. "Give me your hand."

"Why?" Gobber asked suspiciously.

"Just to…you know…" I gestured to Toothless and he looked unconvinced. "I promise," I said reassuringly, "he's not gonna hurt you."

Gobber gave me a long, skeptical look.

"Really," I added.

He slowly extended a shaking hand the size of my whole body and I slowly brought it up to the dragon's snout and he purred a little at the man's rough hands.

Gobber smiled a little and I was certain I knew why: the mix of joy and exhilaration and throw in a bit of fear and the thrill that you did something you never thought you'd do and it added for a pretty incredible mix of emotions.

I gave Gobber a few minutes to collect himself from the disorientation and heard Stoick immediately begin asking him questions as I turned back to Toothless.

"Alright, bud," I whispered. "I promise it'll be over soon."

"You should let Stoick touch it," Gobber told me.

I pointedly ignored the 'it'. "What do you say, bud? Think you trust him enough?"

Toothless gave me a look that clearly read, _I wouldn't get too close._

"I know, I know," I sighed, putting up my hands. "Honestly, I'm trying not to. I just think it'd be a step in the right direction if he were to feel it…I think then he'd understand it a little better, huh?"

Toothless grumbled about it deep in his throat, but he lifted his head to Stoick's hand and allowed the man to touch him.

I gently motioned for Gobber and him to put their weapons down. Gobber bit his lip and slowly released his axe, but Stoick's grip on his sword never faltered.

Toothless was a good judge of character, though and if he was allowing Stoick to touch him, the chief couldn't be all that bad.

Toothless pulled away from him and stalked back over to me, giving me a 'you-owe-me' look. I nodded to signify I understood, turning back to Stoick, waiting for his decision.

If he decided that maybe I was wrong about them…

"Well…" he began.

Toothless was quickly opening and closing his prosthetic tail, a bit of a nervous habit he'd developed a few years back. It was also useful for finding him when we got separated the way we had that night…

_No. _I shut those thoughts down before they could fully get pulled up. I was starting over.


	5. Weaving Webs

**Chapter 5: Weaving Webs**

**This is chapter 5. It is called 'Weaving Webs' because I have nothing else to call it. It has some Hiccup angst, but the angst has not yet gotten so thick that you can barely breathe. Please. Compared to some of my other stories, this is MILD angst xD Also, in my author's note on chapter 1 I promised a lot more than is coming. There might not be HiccupXAstrid romance is all. There will still be defensive!Hiccup, which you get to see here and you also get to see a bit of Hiccup/Snotlout angst and rivalry, purely because I adore Hiccup/Snotlout rivalry, which explains why I enjoyed Thaw Fest so much while everybody else hated it. xD You get to see Toothless/Hiccup closeness and friendship within the next three chapters xD I've got everything planned out. **

**And yes, the mild fluff to measure out the angst is still coming. **

* * *

Stoick turned to me. "I'm warning you, the rest of the village won't listen. They won't even want to get close."

"You could get a lot closer next time if you drop your weapons," I pointed out.

He folded his muscled arms and glared at me. "Are you trying to get us all killed?"

"No," I replied shortly, turning back to pet Toothless' snout. "As you just saw, I'm trying to help you."

The silence swirled around us, the loudest sound I'd ever heard as I waited for their decree.

When neither of them spoke, I did. "Toothless lost half of his tail when we met," I said slowly, never taking my eyes off my dragon. "That was actually how we met. I made him a prosthetic tail so he could fly again, but, unfortunately, when you shot those arrows at him, they broke the material of his prosthetic. Without the tools to build another one, we can't leave this island by air."

"We can make you a boat," Stoick began stiffly. "If that's what you—

"No," I cut in. "That's not what I want. I need the materials to build a prosthetic again. Do you think the blacksmith of Berk would be willing to loan me his tools for a few days, while I help with the dragons?"

"Well, you're lookin' at the blacksmith," Gobber said and I raised an eyebrow.

"Would you be willing to let me use your tools?"

"'Course," Gobber replied easily.

I nodded gratefully, shooting him a smile. I could express my gratitude in him later. The chief was still here and I was having trouble trusting him.

The scary thing was, I didn't even know why. Was it paranoia or…something else? Was I right?

Either way, I thought consolingly to myself, you won't have to put up with him for much longer. Just two, three days.

Once we had gotten everything settled about Toothless' prosthetic, Stoick stiffly offered me food, clothing and medical treatment.

"I don't have any food," I explained quietly. "Or a change of clothes. My leave was…hasty."

_To say the least. Why don't you just wave a big, fat sign over your head reading, "I'M AN OUTCAST!"? _

"Why did you leave so quickly?" Gobber asked as he showed me where the Great Hall was located.

I shrugged, trying to evade the question without making it too obvious. "Eh. You know how it is. I didn't want to stay on the island. I had a…feeling about it."

_Yeah, there were more than feelings on Outcast Island. You knew what they would have done to you if you were caught…_

_No. _For the last damned time, I was starting over and I was done thinking about it. I was done thinking about Outcast Island and Halfdan and Gust and Dad and Ketil the blacksmith…

"Oh. Alright." Gobber nodded.

Stoick broke into our conversation. "Would you like some help with those injuries? They look nasty." He spoke quietly and I caught a glimmer of something in his eyes, something sad and cold and heartbroken, but it vanished almost immediately, leaving me to wonder if I wasn't the only one with secrets.

"No, I'll be fine," I responded with a shrug. I knew basic First Aid. I didn't think I needed help.

We entered the Great Hall and Gobber said, "I assume you want some food first and then you can wash your injuries and get started on the tail. I'll show you the forge."

"Thank you," I nodded.

The chief departed and Gobber disappeared into the small crowd of Vikings and while he was gone, a group of about five teens approached me.

"Is it true?" asked a husky blonde boy anxiously.

"Is what true?" I demanded.

"You were right, New Guy is cute," a blonde girl with three braids said, peering at me.

I blushed, inching backward, trying to step away, not only because their stares were making me uncomfortable, but also because if this girl thought I was attractive, she needed to be taken to a mental hospital, pronto.

"Oh, great," said a skinny guy with lots of dirty-blonde hair. "My sister decided to join the conversation."

The girl turned back to him and glared. "You shut up."

"No, you shut up."

"No, you!"

"So what's the runt's name?" demanded a muscular, dark-haired boy, stepping up beside me and cutting easily through the siblings' argument. I guessed he must have had lots of practice.

I considered calling him something much worse than 'runt' and then reminded myself not to sink to his level. "Hiccup."

"Oh, that's fitting," he snorted and the last person, a blonde girl, the only one who hadn't yet spoken, snapped, "Oh, shut up, Snotlout" and turned to me.

"Sorry about him," she said smoothly. "He's a real…" she cast a glance back at him. He was looking offended.

I shrugged. "He's not so bad."

"You haven't seen the worst of him," she replied lightly and Snotlout interjected. "Hey! Babe!"

"Don't call me that," she flared, turning on him.

Gobber appeared beside me, carrying two plates piled with food. He led me to a table at the back of the hall and set the plates down there, plopping down on one of the benches, so I took the one across from him.

"No trouble?" he asked.

I shook my head. "Nope. None."

"I just saw you talkin' to the kids," he said, casting a wary eye over at them. "And some of them aren't too…"

"Smart?" I offered and Gobber sighed. "I guess."

He turned back to his food, so I did, too.

As I began eating, he started asking me questions that I tried mostly to avoid.

"So, where'd you live before, Hiccup?" he asked.

_Oh, what a tangled web we weave…_

I struggled to find an evasive answer without making the blacksmith totally hate me. Not that I had to give a damn what this guy thought of me, but it might work wonders for the hours I'd have to spend in his forge. It'd only take a night or two. I'd been meaning to redo his prosthetic anyway, before everything that happened, before—

_You're starting over. Stop it._

I realized I hadn't replied to his question for a few long seconds, long enough to let him know I was going to lie, so I feigned innocence. "I'm sorry? I didn't hear you question."

"Where'd you live before you came around here?" Gobber repeated in a clearer voice.

I shrugged, ready to respond now, mentally running through all the tribes Dad had ever told me about.

_Meatheads? Nah, they visit Berk too much. Too risky._

_Bog-Burglars? Oh, hell no, they're all girls! You have enough trouble just TALKING to the opposite sex._

_Murderous? Um, no, as far as I remember, they're in a blood feud with the Hooligans. _

_Hysterics? No, no, no. Even Dad seemed to fear THOSE guys._

_The Berserkers?_

I thought of the last time I'd seen the heir to the Berserker tribe, when the Outcasts had declared war on them. That awful kid…what was his name again? Dagur?

_Definitely not._

But then, the only two tribes left I knew of were the Lava-Louts and the Outcasts and the Hooligans hated both.

So I went with the next-best thing. "I've been on my own, with Toothless."

And in the end, I always was.

Gobber gave me a long look. "You're awfully young."

I shrugged. "I'm sixteen."

"That's still a kid."

"I'll live."

For the first time, Gobber shut up and stopped asking me questions. I didn't mind him, but I was relieved he'd stopped interrogating me.

It was almost like he was suspicious…

_Calm down, _I cautioned myself. I couldn't spend every waking moment worrying about how much to let slip and how much to keep inside.

I had to play it cool.

What a tangled web, indeed.


	6. Pretending To Be

To Be Loved the Way You Love Me

_Life on Berk turns upside down when a sixteen year old boy traveling with a dark past, a world of hurt, and a Night Fury washes up on its shores. The love-starved boy will only tell people one thing about his past: His name is Hiccup. But where did he live before? And why doesn't he trust anyone?_

Chapter 6: Pretending To Be

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**So, there's some angst in here as well, and my computer keeps telling me I misspelled 'be' which I sincerely doubt. Anyway, Hiccup has some angst about Outcast Island, which I adore writing. This fanfiction is already half as long as the original work and we're nowhere near being done yet :D It actually feels right now that Gobber is more the second main character than Stoick is, but there's a reason I'm setting Stoick up to seem so untrustworthy to Hiccup, I promise. Trying not to give too much away here, but seriously :P Also, I'm sorry for the lame chapter title. This one had no good title, either. I apologize :P **

* * *

As we walked to the forge when we were done eating, Stoick caught up with us. "I wanted to talk to you," he told me.

I felt a thrill of fear as I remembered the last time I'd heard that phrase.

"_Ready to talk, dragon conqueror?" he asked._

"_I would rather die than talk to you," I responded stubbornly and I heard him laughing, laughing, laughing as he said, "Well, that's really too bad. Because I wanted to talk to you. And we all know Alvin the Treacherous gets what he wants…"_

"Alright," I told him, trying to shake off the fear. I was in a different place now. On Outcast Island, surviving was a conscious effort. On Berk, the only thing I had to do to stay out of a cell was…pretend to be somebody I'm not. Bury the real me.

Stoick didn't ask for it to be private, which I was relieved about. I know I've said it a million times in this story, but there was definitely something wrong with him.

"I wanted to talk," he said when we'd reached the forge, "about the dragons."

"I know," I interrupted. "But, Chief, I really can only help when they attack—

"I know that," he cut in, waving a hand dismissively to shut me up. "That wasn't it. What I wanted to ask you was about…something you said."

I cocked my head, pulling out my sketchbook and propping it open on one of the worktables, examining the drawing of Toothless' tail. I'd left him in the forest, at the village's request, with a pile of fish that I knew would keep him preoccupied until I went to get him.

I'd much rather have had him here with me, but the village was already starting to whisper about me, about how I should leave…

Having a Night Fury certainly complicated things. But I wouldn't change it for the world. Who needs uncomplicated when your best friend is somebody like Toothless?

"Yeah?" I asked, flipping idly to the most recent drawing I'd done to modify his tail. It wasn't terribly recent, in itself – it was about four, maybe five years old and I knew I'd have to have another look at it to be able to tell how to repair or remake it.

Remaking would take longer, but I'd been meaning to for some time now…I chewed my lip, lost in thought as Stoick talked.

"You make it sound like they…don't really have a choice but to attack," the chief managed. "What was that about?"

"Well, it's true," I said without looking up from studying the drawing. "They don't have a choice."

There was a silence from behind me and I stood. "I'm gonna need Toothless' tail to do this. I'm gonna have to bring him into the forge, okay?"

Technically, I didn't need Toothless with me in the forge, but I hated being away from him. It gave me this tight feeling in my chest, like something was going to go horribly wrong if he wasn't there with me. Guess I'd spent too long like that—

_Stop. Starting over, remember?_

Of course I remembered.

"Wait. What do you mean, they don't have a choice?" Stoick looked confused.

I shrugged. "You probably wouldn't believe me even if I told you, Chief." I started heading for the back door and I heard him start talking to me again, so I turned around.

"What do you mean?" he demanded again and I could tell he wasn't going to take no for an answer.

I sighed, glancing reluctantly at my sketchbook, lying open on the worktable. This would take at least two hours to explain…two hours in which I could be working on the tail…if I stayed here too long, Dad would get wind of where I was and it wouldn't be just me in danger, but fathers and mothers and sons and daughters, families with little children and elderly people with fatigue and slower reflexes.

But how exactly do you explain that to someone?

"Hello, a creepy psychopath is after me, may I stay on your island? Oh, yeah and I'm with the Vikings' most feared enemy, not to mention I was born into a tribe full of exiles. Don't mind the dragon. He won't chew anybody's limbs off unless he thinks I'm being threatened and we both feel that way basically all the time."

Yeah. Not.

I sighed and sat down on an overturned barrel and began to explain. "Okay. You're gonna think I'm crazy, but, there's this queen…"


	7. Drawings and Compliments

To Be Loved the Way You Love Me

_Life on Berk turns upside down when a sixteen year old boy traveling with a dark past, a world of hurt, and a Night Fury washes up on its shores. The love-starved boy will only tell people one thing about his past: His name is Hiccup. But where did he live before? And why doesn't he trust anyone?_

Chapter 7: Drawings and Compliments

* * *

"Dragon training begins and ends with trust," I said to Gobber, focusing on the prosthetic tail as he tentatively offered Toothless some dragon nip. My attempts to remake the tail had turned into giving Gobber an impromptu dragon training lesson on the side and don't even ask how he'd weaseled that one out of me.

"You guys are doing great," I encouraged, flipping my sketchbook open to the right page again. I used to hate looking at the sketchbook after my mom died. She'd given to me and I dreaded what she might think of what her family had become after her death.

We'd become monsters, Dad and I.

There she was, teaching about honesty and integrity and how the tribes shouldn't keep slaves, even though we were OUTCASTS, for Thor's sake and here I was, lying my heart out to escape being tossed into a cell and there Dad was being…him.

I pushed my thoughts away from her and back to the prosthetic tail, not even paying attention to what was going on behind me…

Until I heard a squelching sound and then a splat.

"HICCUP!" Gobber bellowed, as though I'd done something eternally indecent. I whipped around so fast, I collided with the barrel resting beside my worktable and ended up knocking it over with the tail, and it turned out to be a full of weapons.

I tripped over an axe handle and ended up half-wading through the pile, trying to move the barrel so I could see what Gobber was yelling about.

He set the barrel right-side-up again and began putting the weapons back into it, handling them one-handedly and with ease.

That's when I noticed he gripped something in his other hand.

"Um, Gobber?" I asked. "What is that?" I pointed at his real hand and he held up the object inside.

I turned to Toothless, knowing what had happened and determined to give him a disapproving look, but a laugh escaped me.

Gobber scowled. "Yeah, yeah, yuk it up," he said, not amused, as I managed to collect myself. "You could've at least told me he randomly barfs up fish."

"He was sharing his food," I defended him. "You must've looked hungry to him."

"I wasn't," Gobber replied. "And this made me even less hungry."

I chuckled and turned away from him, giving Toothless an affectionate pat on the head. Gobber wasn't paying attention to the fish anymore; it had slid to the floor with a splat and he was peering over my work desk, although there was nothing to see.

Toothless licked my cheek and I laughed a little, rubbing the spit away and stood, looking over at the blacksmith. "Gobber? What're you looking at?"

"Wow," Gobber breathed, picking something up. It was my sketchbook.

"Yeah, I know," I mumbled. "Can you believe how much work that tail is gonna—

"It's not the tail, Hiccup. It's this." He pointed to a drawing of Toothless I'd done awhile ago.

"Yeah," I squinted. "What's 'wow' about it?"

"You've got a lot of talent," he told me. "Honestly, this is really good."

The forge suddenly felt too hot and I found I couldn't look Gobber in the eye as I slowly walked back to my worktable, eyes fixed on my boots. "No, no, it's not that great. Honestly."

"Hiccup, how can you say that? You're really talented," Gobber replied, flipping through the book.

"No," I protested. "I'm not." Toothless gave my hand an affectionate lick and I smiled down at him, grateful for his presence in the forge.

Gobber set the book down and looked over at me; pride was showing clearly in his features. "How long have you been drawing?"

"Dunno," I shrugged, scuffing the toe of my boot against the wooden floor uncomfortably. I really didn't like him looking at my drawings and I liked it even less that he was complimenting them. "Since I was seven or eight, I think. Too young to be drawing, really."

"That explains it," Gobber nodded. "If you draw at an early age, you're likely to only get better as the years pass. And you've got some skills, kiddo." He handed me back the sketchbook and I trained my eyes on the scorched and scratched-up wooden floor. "Whatever."

"Anyway, you'd better get back to work. I have a feeling Chief Stoick will only keep putting up with you for a few more days."

_I wish _I _could stop putting up with me._

"Yeah," I nodded, dropping my head and picking up the prosthetic tail again. "I know."

Silence fell between us.


	8. Scarred Over

To Be Loved the Way You Love Me

_Life on Berk turns upside down when a sixteen year old boy traveling with a dark past, a world of hurt, and a Night Fury washes up on its shores. The love-starved boy will only tell people one thing about his past: His name is Hiccup. But __where did he live before? And why doesn't he trust anyone?_

Chapter 8: Scarred Over

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**A/N: AAAAAAAAAAAANGST. In case you couldn't tell, last chap was mild fluff to measure out angst, even though angst seeped in anyway. :P But now Hiccup has some proper angst about Outcast Island :D**

* * *

"_I have questions," Dad smiled. "And I know you will answer them before the day is done."_

"_Give it up, Alvin!" I yelled at him. "I'm not helping you!" My head was pounding and gods, everything on me hurt but I wasn't about to let him know that. If you give in to pain, you're letting the enemy win._

_I swallowed, waiting for Dad's next move. _

"_Maybe you won't help me," Dad responded. "But would you help your precious dragon?"_

_There was a desperate roar from nearby and I was struggling to get at him, to get to my dragon, to poor Toothless, I couldn't stand it, I couldn't bear it, I had to be there, how could they hurt him?_

_I could feel hot tears building up in my eyes and a few found their way down my face as I realized giving in to pain wasn't something Dad needed, just an occasional perk of the job. So, though I knew how much he liked it, I let my head fall and I gave in to the pain._

"It was just a dream," I whispered to myself. Sweat ran down my forehead and neck and though I was hot, too hot, I was also shaking, whether from cold or fear I didn't know. It had seemed so real…probably because something frighteningly similar had happened once…

"Dad isn't here," I told myself. "He can't hurt Toothless." As if for emphasis on this, I reached over and touched Toothless' head. I was sleeping in the forge, using his back for a pillow. He didn't mind it – he even encouraged it most nights, as it was the only way either of us felt safe enough to sleep.

Toothless' eyes snapped open and he looked over at me, green eyes wide and shiny and sad.

He nudged me with his nose, sitting up.

"It was nothing," I told him. "Go back to sleep, Toothless."

He whined again, nudging me harder this time.

"It was just a nightmare," I explained.

He gave a motherly, sad sigh and opened his wings, and I knew what he wanted. I crawled closer to him and he wrapped me in his wings, our strange version of a hug.

"It's okay," I assured him. "So long as Dad isn't here, we're okay."

He nodded, but there seemed to be something he wasn't saying, some emotion he wouldn't let me see. When he turned to face me full on, I saw it: guilt.

I swallowed as his eyes seemed to tell me, 'I didn't protect you the first time and I'm sorry.'

"Toothless, no," I said, pressing myself closer to him, my voice muffled by his wings and scales. "You couldn't have done anything. If anyone should be feeling guilty about this, it should be me."

Toothless drew away from me and gave me an angry, 'don't go there' look. I sighed. "Toothless, I should've tried harder on Outcast Island, I just—I don't know how you can forgive me for what I let them do to you…"

Toothless glared at me and began growling at me, signifying his displeasure.

I gave up trying to apologize and just clung to him, because I never wanted to let him go again. I never would let him go again. The times ahead were gonna be tough – surviving alone always was. But I'd done it once, on Outcast Island. I'd done it for years on Outcast Island. I could do it again…forever.

Finally, when the world went quiet and there was nothing but peace all around, I drew away from him and offered him a weak smile. "Maybe we should go back to sleep," I said, gesturing to the window. "It's still dark outside."

I'd tried telling Gobber I could sleep in the forest, but he wouldn't listen. He didn't listen about my injuries, either and helped me with them, even though I insisted I could get them.

He had asked me questions last night, too, as he washed the blood from my hairline and bandaged up the graze on my temple, just above my eyebrow.

"_Where'd you get all these injuries, anyway?" he asked as he dabbed water and something with a sickening scent and a crazy sting on my temple. "They don't seem like the type of things you could've gotten all on your own."_

Translated: tell me the truth for once.

"_Uh…" I stuttered, sounding like a total idiot. "I was…pillaging. Stealing from the Meathead Public Library, you know the one…the Hairy Scary Librarian caught me and, well…" I gestured to myself. "I managed to avoid his Heart-Slicers, thankfully."_

_Gobber didn't challenge my explanation._

He knew what Hairy was like, too, I'd assumed, and sure enough, it wasn't long before he'd gone into a long-winded explanation of how he'd once pilfered a book on dragon killing from the library, hoping that there would be something helpful in there to help them deal with the dragons.

Unfortunately, he'd said, it turned out to have only a few useful tips in there, and one of them ("yell at it") wouldn't have worked on anything bigger than a Terrible Terror.

"Oops," he gave a sheepish grin as he glanced out the window and saw the stars out, the moon shining its cold beam of light down on us. "I'd better let ya get some sleep, huh?"

I had been getting more and more tired all throughout his story, but I hadn't wanted to say so, because it was actually a really interesting story and besides…I knew I'd have nightmares anyway. I'd just wanted to prolong it.

Gobber had wanted me to sleep in the forge and though I'd argued, eventually my common sense won over my pride.

I'd gone to bed, fallen asleep within seconds and now, here I was, all alone in the dark except for Toothless, shivering and tired and afraid.

Gobber hadn't exaggerated: the forge was freezing by now.

But then again, Toothless and I both knew what it was like to be cold, and as Toothless was the warmest creature I'd ever met (probably from all the fire-breathing he did) the temperature wasn't an issue.

Toothless curled back up on the wooden floor, looking up at me with wide eyes that I knew were begging me not to blame myself.

But how could I not?

I'd had such a huge hand in getting Toothless imprisoned that it was almost as if I'd locked his cell door myself.

I'd been such an idiot, such a fool, thinking we'd be okay so long as we had each other. And Dad ripped that away from me, that sense of security that I thought would last forever. I thought we'd never have to be apart.

I bit my lip as hot tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, threatening to slip down my cheek. They'd be dry by morning, so it wasn't like anybody would see, but still. I had to be strong. I had to be strong for Toothless. I couldn't break down.

I saw my dad's sneering, scarred face in the darkness as I lay back down, like a photograph that just wouldn't fade away, into the dark corner where I kept all my memories.

That was the one memory that never left me alone.

"_What. Are. You. Doing?" Dad demanded, grabbing me by the collar of my shirt and physically throwing me down, prying me off of Toothless. "I mean, what…"_

_He began pacing back and forth, and I knew not to say anything. If I kept my mouth shut, I might be able to show him…_

"_Father…" I began, but he turned on me angrily, not letting me finish._

"_I mean...why did you have to do this, Hiccup?" Toothless wasn't there. In the years to come, I'd grow used to cold darkness and absolute aloneness, but right then, with Toothless being chained up outside where I could hear his pitiful moans that were so much like torture to me, I felt so naked, defenseless, alone._

_Out there, it would take real effort to break me down._

_In here, where Toothless wasn't, all it took was a single word, a harsh rejection. And I'd be shattered._

"_I…I…" I had nothing to say. I was frozen and no matter how badly I wanted to speak, I couldn't because I was absolutely frozen and even if I wasn't, not all of the words in the world could mend what had been broken._

_My father looked so disgusted with me, turning on me, yelling, yelling, yelling so loud. Everything was so loud in my ears. _

"_I…" I tried to speak, to interrupt him, but then he smacked me on the face and yelled out the terrible words I would never forget, not ever, and I would never forget how it felt when he struck me for the first time, though he would hit me many more times in the years to come._

I closed my eyes against it, resting my head on Toothless' back, trying to tell myself I was starting over, but tears seeped out from under my lids and rolled down my cheeks still.

I still remembered the way his fingers felt against my cheek, and the harsh red mark they left on my face. It was the mark that had once made all the villagers whisper.

After awhile, my marks were nothing new.

I knew I had scars and not just from my father's blows.

They existed all over my body, puckered, pink and orange burn marks, little white and pink lines come from a dagger that had once pierced my skin and drawn so much blood, laceration after laceration, bruise after bruise and drop after drop of blood until eventually I couldn't remember a time when I was completely unscarred.

The marks my dad left became as ordinary as the clothes on my back, just a feeling of moderate pain and then, after awhile, slipping into numbness or dull throbs.

Gobber had found a few of those scars last night, but only two or three – he'd barely scratched the surface.

"_Hiccup…what is this?" he pointed to a mark on my shoulder, the leftover welts from my last whipping. _

"_Oh," I shrugged, looking down at it. "Battle scars." I'd tried making a joke out of it then, by saying, "Even I've fought a battle or two."_

_But Gobber hadn't looked amused. I probably should have thought up a smoother lie, because there was no way anybody could mistake the marks of a whip as "battle scars"._

Suddenly, a loud roar sounded throughout the village and at the same moment, more roars echoed, bouncing around in the night.

The sky seemed to be filled with them. I peered out the window at the darkened sky, only to see dragons of all kinds, flying by the dozens towards the village.

People were streaming out of their homes, readying their weapons and shouting to wake up the people who were still sleeping.

I turned to Toothless, hoping my expression didn't give too much away. "C'mon, bud," I said.

Time to help the village.


End file.
